


Unknown Number

by Sweet_Christabel



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Rated for minor swearing, Texting, aperture is borderline legit, awkward nerdy flirting, henry is a douchebag, just fluff, literature appreciation, mel ships it, no peril, that's why its an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweet_Christabel/pseuds/Sweet_Christabel
Summary: AU. When Doug texts Chell accidentally, it marks the beginning of a relationship that will quickly become vital to both of them.





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys! It's a new Chellmann story from me just in time for Christmas! Who would have thought it. (Certainly not me, this one sneaked up on me...) This one will be short and sweet, just ten chapters, with much shorter chapter lengths than I usually write. I wanted to try being more concise for once.
> 
> Big thanks to Aicosu for writing 'Message Sent' and first giving me the idea of a wrong number fic, and for being so supportive when I was concerned about a few minor similarities :)

It began deceptively simply, as so many life-altering things do. An unexpected incoming message that sent her phone skittering across the kitchen sideboard. 

_Unknown number 5:41pm  
Hello, this is my new number – Doug_

None of it was familiar; the number, the name… Only the area code. She dashed off a speedy reply.

_Me 5:42pm  
Who is this?_

_Unknown number 5:44pm  
Doug. From work_

_Me 5:45pm  
Sorry, I think you have the wrong number_

_Unknown number 5:47pm  
Very funny, Henry. I finally take your advice and get a new phone and you ridicule me for it_

She raised her eyebrows. 

_Me 5:49pm  
I’m not Henry!_

_Unknown number 5:52pm  
Of course you’re not_

Chell glanced at the text, interpreting the sarcasm easily. She shrugged, setting her phone back down. She’d tried. 

_Whatever, buddy_ , she thought, turning her attention to her dinner preparations, where it was supposed to be. He’d realise his error soon enough.

* * *

Two days later, she’d forgotten about it entirely, until her phone demanded her attention while she was trying to get dressed. She reached for it, wondering who had the gall to text her at such an early hour. 

_Probably Rosie calling in sick._

It wasn’t Rosie, but her assessment wasn’t far off. 

_Unknown number 7:02am  
Can you tell the higher-ups I won’t be in today? I’d call but I’m not up to it, sorry_

_Seriously??_ Setting her socks aside, she typed a firm response.

_Me 7:04am  
Look, I was being serious when I said you have the wrong number. I’m sorry you’re sick, but you need to contact someone you actually work with_

She paused and added a smiley face to soften the words. The reply came as she was tugging on her jeans. 

_Unknown number 7:06am  
Fine, I’ll call Ellen. Happy?_

She blinked. How did he _still_ not believe her? Well, there was nothing to be done about it. Putting her phone out of sight and the message out of mind, she headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Unlike him, she had a job to get to.

* * *

The next day, she heard from him again.

_Unknown number 2:10pm  
I’m so sorry, I talked to Henry about all this and he says he knows nothing about it. Sorry to bother you_

_Finally!_ Smiling a little, Chell began her reply, but another message came in before she’d finished typing. 

_Unknown number 2:11pm_  
_Unless you ARE Henry and this is a double bluff…  
Now I don’t know what to think…_

_Me 2:12pm  
This Henry sounds like a piece of work_

_Unknown number 2:13pm_  
_You have no idea  
Unless you do…_

She laughed, although she wasn’t sure he’d meant it to be funny. He sounded genuinely confused, poor guy. 

_Me 2:14pm  
I’m really not Henry but I’m not sure what I can say to convince you_

She was _not_ going to send him a selfie. Not only would that be reckless, there was no way of proving that it wasn’t just a random girl from a Google search. 

_Unknown number 2:15pm  
I have a way. Text me back in 5 minutes_

_Me 2:15pm  
O…kay…_

Chell was nothing if not punctual, and she took him at his word. 

_Me 2:20pm  
Obligatory 5-minute text_

He didn’t reply right away, and Chell wondered what he was up to. Shrugging, she put her phone back in her pocket and turned to the stack of books she was supposed to be shelving. She’d just returned _The Art of Armana_ to Ancient History when her pocket vibrated. 

_Unknown number 2:35pm  
Congratulations, you’re not Henry_

She sniggered. _I could have told you that._

_Me 2:36pm  
How do you know?_

_Unknown number 2:37pm  
I kept him talking when I asked you to text. He didn’t touch his phone_

_Me 2:38pm  
Smart!_

_Unknown number 2:40pm  
Again, I’m so sorry for the mix up. Hope I didn’t disturb you_

_Me 2:41pm  
No problem. I’m glad it got sorted :)_

So that was that. 

* * *

Except that it wasn’t. 

_Unknown number 10:52am  
Henry, I swear to god, if you’ve moved my damn ASHPD notes again…_

_Unknown number 10:54am  
Crap, I’m so sorry again. Guess I forgot to amend the contact details_

_Me 10:55am  
Lol! It’s ok. It’s kinda amusing, actually_

Chell pocketed her phone, then after a moment’s thought, tugged it back out. 

_What was his name again?_

She scrolled up to the top of the conversation. 

_Right, Doug._

She changed his details. Just in case. 

* * *

Later, during the afternoon lull in the library, she toyed with an idea. The little snippets of conversation were breaking up her weekly routine nicely, and she was loath to give them up right away. 

_Me 4:07pm  
Did you find your notes?_

She wondered what kind of job required coded notes. Certainly one more exciting than hers, that was for sure. 

_Doug 4:12pm  
I did, thanks. He’d ‘borrowed’ them_

Chell chuckled at the use of quotation marks. It allowed her to map out the startlingly-clear voice she was starting to build for this guy.

_Me 4:13pm  
Rude!_

_Doug 4:20pm  
Exactly_

Chell pondered the single word. It seemed an awful lot like a conversation-stopper, and part of her was disappointed. Besides the messages making her mundane week seem a little less mundane, she was starting to feel somewhat invested in the comedy double-act that was the Doug and Henry in her mind. 

“Chell?”

She glanced up, spotting Bobby, one of her superiors. Shoving her phone in her pocket, she tried to look accommodating. 

“Can you go and tidy up the kids section? It’s a mess again.”

Chell nodded, sending the older man a smile. They both knew that tidying up the kids section was like trying to shovel snow that was still falling. 

“Thanks.” 

Focused on picking up a multitude of dropped books, Chell put the text messages far from her mind. That was probably the last of them anyway. 

* * *

_Doug 5:55pm  
Just typed out an entire message to Henry before remembering that you’re not him_

Chell smirked, typing her reply as she kept half an eye on the pasta bubbling nicely in the pan beside her. 

_Me 5:56pm  
Why don’t you just delete my number then?_

_Doug 5:58pm_  
_I’m not sure…  
I guess that seems rude somehow_

She laughed at the strangely considerate sentiment.

_Me 5:59pm  
Well I’m touched_

_Doug 6:01pm  
I changed your details to Not-Henry, so it shouldn’t happen again_

Chell bit her lip, wondering if he’d meant it as an invitation or if she was just reading it as one. She typed and hesitated, her finger hovering over the send button. Then she hit it. 

_Me 6:03pm  
No need for that. My name’s Chell_

She had his name, after all. It was only fair.

_Doug 6:04pm  
Chell? Unusual_

_Me 6:05pm  
Yeah, tell me about it. Not many people share their name with a blue alien from Star Trek_

_Doug 6:06pm_  
_I have no idea what you’re talking about.  
Never mind, just Googled it. Is there much of a resemblance?_

_Me 6:07pm  
You’re hilarious_

_Doug 6:09am  
I’m surprised it’s a male alien, though. Chell seems like a female name_

_Me 6:10pm  
In my case it’s a female name, but there’s no accounting for alien trends_

_Doug 6:10pm_  
_Ah, of course  
It’s nice to meet you, Chell_

_Me 6:10pm  
Nice to meet you too :)_

She smiled, amused and uplifted by the simple interaction. Maybe she’d accidentally made a new friend. That would be a new experience. It wasn’t often one made friends accidentally. 

_Oh shit, the pasta!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Posting two chapters to kick things off, then I will hopefully post every few days. This story is complete, so yay :)
> 
> I also have art to go with this! https://www.deviantart.com/sweet-christabel/art/Unknown-Number-777653637


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Time to check in with Doug.

Doug doodled a sketch on the corner of his notes, thinking. It was ironic, really. The actual scientific work that he’d done to create the handheld portal device had seemed like child’s play compared to thinking up what to say at its presentation. It helped that it would just be him and two supervisors there. He didn’t think he was up to speaking in front of an entire room full of people. 

His phone buzzed its way across the worn surface of the workbench, making him jump. Thankful for the distraction – and Aperture Science’s signal boosting technology that made it possible – he reached for it. 

_Chell 12:43pm  
Hey, what time are we meeting up?_

His mind went blank. Surely she wasn’t suggesting…? They had barely talked, she couldn’t possibly…

_Chell 12:44pm  
Oh my god! That wasn’t supposed to go to you! Crap, now I’m doing it! _

He let out a relieved laugh. He wasn’t good at meeting new people, although Chell didn’t seem to count, and they’d been chatting just fine in texts. Being able to represent himself with written words alone seemed to take the pressure off their interactions. He was enjoying it, even. She seemed…bright, somehow. There was something about her that made him want to keep talking to her, although he couldn’t have put his finger on what it was exactly. 

_Me 12:45pm  
It’s fine, you were due_

_Chell 12:46pm  
I guess! Sorry! _

He scrolled up, looking through their conversation. He liked that she used full sentences and punctuation, like he did. He found messages laden with text-speak difficult to read. Perhaps she was an avid reader, like him. Maybe he’d ask her sometime, when he felt bolder. 

_Me 12:56pm  
Got any tips for writing a presentation?_

Doug asked the question on a whim, tapping his pen against his sparse notepad. 

_Chell 12:56pm  
Are you procrastinating?_

_Me 12:57pm  
Maybe…_

_Chell 12:57pm_  
_I’m shocked and disappointed :P  
To answer your question, no. I’m literally the worst person to ask about public speaking_

_Me 12:58pm  
You can’t be as bad as me_

_Chell 12:58pm  
Wanna bet?_

He chuckled, tugging his notepad towards him and snapping a picture of it. 

_Me 1:01pm_  
_[1 attachment]  
This is how far I’ve gotten_

_Chell 1:02pm  
Nice doodle. You’ve written the title really neatly, so there’s that. (Project Presentation is a lame title though, just saying…) That’s a lot of blank paper I’m seeing underneath it…_

_Me 1:03pm  
Hence my dilemma_

_Chell 1:04pm  
Ok, you get kudos for using the word ‘hence’. It’s an under-used word if you ask me_

_Me 1:04pm  
Like ‘forthwith’ _

_Chell 1:05pm  
Yes! Bring it back! _

Doug smiled. She _had_ to be a bookish person. He decided to take a chance. 

_Me 1:06pm  
Are you familiar with Emily Dickinson?_

_Chell 1:07pm  
I saw her on a murder mystery thing once_

_Me 1:07pm  
???_

_Chell 1:08pm_  
_You Tube. Never mind. No, I’m not, why do you ask?  
Oh! Does she use ‘forthwith’?_

He laughed. 

_Me 1:09pm  
I can’t remember, actually. And no reason, I was just going to recommend her_

_Chell 1:10pm_  
_Cool, I’ll check her out.  
In the meantime, write your presentation_

Doug laughed again, sending off a quick reply before settling to attempt just that. 

_Me 1:10pm  
Yes ma’am_

* * *

_Chell 2:03pm  
Not to sound morbid or anything, but I really like ‘Because I could not stop for death’_

_Doug 2:04pm  
I like that one too. Have you been Googling this whole time?_

_Chell 2:05pm  
Actually, no, I’m in the library. It has real books and everything_

_Doug 2:05pm  
I’m quite jealous_

_Chell 2:06pm  
Presentation still not good?_

_Doug 2:06pm  
I have a page and a half_

_Chell 2:07pm  
That’s an improvement. How much more do you need?_

_Doug 2:08pm  
Not much, thankfully_

_Chell 2:08pm  
Well good luck. And thanks for the recommendation. Got anymore?_

_Doug 2:09pm_  
_Thanks  
Edgar Allen Poe?_

_Chell 2:09pm  
Seriously?_

_Doug 2:10pm  
What’s wrong with Poe?_

_Chell 2:10pm  
Nothing! I like Annabel Lee_

_Doug 2:11pm  
Interesting choice_

_Chell 2:11pm  
You’ll see why. You have to watch that murder mystery thing now. I’m sending you a link_

_Doug 2:12pm  
I’m still at work_

_Chell 2:12pm  
You’ll thank me later_

* * *

_Doug 6:10pm  
What is this??_

_Chell 6:11pm  
Stick with it! It gets great_

_Doug 6:52pm  
Okay, I admit it, it’s pretty funny_

_Chell 6:53pm  
Told you_

_Doug 6:53pm  
I like H.G. Wells_

_Chell 6:54pm  
Me too, he’s kinda cute_

_Doug 6:55pm  
That was not what I meant_

_Chell 6:55pm  
I know, but he is. I think it’s the geek chic thing_

_Doug 6:56pm  
The what now?_

_Chell 6:57pm  
Geek chic. Like people who might previously have been thought of as nerdy and unappealing are now admired for their smartness. And they embrace their nerdiness and are attractive because of it_

_Doug 6:58pm  
Not sure your logic holds up in the real world_

_Chell 6:59pm  
Sure it does! Are you telling me you’ve never seen a cute nerd? Like a hot computer technician or an attractive scientist?_

_Doug 7:00pm  
I’m not in the best positon to judge..._

_Chell 7:00pm  
Or someone really stunning holding a pile of books or something_

_Doug 7:01pm  
Okay, that one makes sense_

_Chell 7:01pm_  
_No it doesn’t, I was just messing around.  
Anyway, I have to go make some food_

_Doug 7:02pm  
Good luck_

* * *

“Congratulations, Doug, the portal device is a go,” boomed Zach, the slightly-more-superior of his supervisors. 

“Thank you, sir,” he replied politely. “I’ll coordinate with HR and send out applications for test subjects immediately.” 

“Excellent. Hopefully they can come up with some good puzzles for them to solve.”

Doug peered at him, trying not to frown. Aperture’s product tests were always bizarrely heavy on puzzles. Sometimes he wondered why they even bothered pretending they _were_ product tests. It seemed clear that the team in Human Resources were keen to test the test subjects rather than the equipment. 

“How will puzzle-solving help test the device?” he couldn’t help asking meaningfully. 

Zach shrugged off the point he was trying to make. “It’ll help us get a grasp of how helpful this technology can be. HR have their reasons, you know that.”

Doug nodded politely, ignoring the pounding of another headache and realising that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument. “Fair enough, sir.”

He felt his phone buzz in his jacket’s inside pocket, and quashed a small strand of eagerness. Why was it so much easier to talk to a virtual stranger than the people around him? 

“I’ll get right on the applications,” he spoke up, already walking away. His phone was in his hand before he’d fully turned. 

_Chell 3:10pm  
How’s your day going?_

He couldn’t help smiling. Somewhere between the mix up and Emily Dickinson, they’d started chatting like actual friends. 

_Doug 3:11pm  
Not bad. Presentation went well_

_Chell 3:11pm  
Oh great! Congrats_

_Doug 3:12pm  
Thanks. What about yours?_

_Chell 3:12pm  
Slow. I’m really bored_

_Doug 3:13pm  
That explains the texts then_

There was more truth to the words than she would know. He sighed, returning the phone to its pocket, riding out the tide of negative thoughts, tiredly countering them with logic. 

_She’s only texting you because she’s bored._

_Yes, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t enjoy chatting. She could have stopped days ago._

_You’re over-thinking this._

_You think?_

His phone vibrated. He managed to ignore it for three whole minutes before curiosity made him reach for it. 

_Chell 3:14pm  
No, I didn’t mean it like that! Shit, sorry, that sounded so rude_

_Doug 3:18pm  
It’s okay, I was just teasing_

It was easier to pretend than to explain. 

_Chell 3:18pm  
Ok, good_

Doug considered replying again, but let it lie. He wasn’t sure what else to say. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he turned his attention to the applications that needed writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The murder mystery thing that Chell recommends is a real thing! Check out Edgar Allen Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party if you enjoy seeing a bunch of famous authors get picked off one by one!
> 
> I realised I've never really written anything exploring Doug's love of Emily Dickinson, so I took the chance here. There's a cube-focused version of 'Because I Could Not Stop For Death' in one of the dens in Portal 1. I forget which one, though.


	3. Chapter Three

Chell looked down at her pay check and mentally subtracted her rent from the amount. 

_Tight_ , she realised, heart sinking. _If only Bobby would give me more hours._

Her library job wasn’t ideal, and it certainly wasn’t a career, but it suited her for the moment. Bobby had been very understanding about her needs, letting her off the duties that she couldn’t do. And it was quiet. She liked it just for that. Well, that and the books. Speaking of…

She went to Classical Poetry and found the gleaming new edition that had just come in. 

_Me 12:11pm_  
_[1 attachment]  
Look what I just found_

_Doug 12:12pm  
Impressive. You really are sold on Emily Dickinson. At the library again?_

_Me 12:13pm  
I practically live here_

She hadn’t told him she worked there. They had the same area code. Yes, it was a large area, it was unlikely they were in the same town, and even more unlikely that they’d walk into the same library, but still…the chance was always there. He seemed nice and intelligent, and was by far the easiest person she’d found to talk to in a long while, but that didn’t mean they knew each other. Not really. 

_Doug 12:14pm  
Student?_

Chell hesitated. They hadn’t pushed for personal details, except for names. She wasn’t sure it was wise to start. And yet…she wanted the friendship. She was starting to look forward to hearing from him, to chat about books or have mild, vague grumbles about work or life. As long as she was careful, she saw no harm in answering the question honestly. 

_Me 12:16pm  
No, but I guess I’m flattered you think I’m college age_

To read between the lines: _I’m an adult_. If he was some sort of creep, he’d probably lose interest right about now. 

_Doug 12:17pm  
Actually I’m relieved. Talking to a student would have seemed… questionable_

She huffed a small laugh. He was probably worried about the same things she was. 

_Me 12:18pm  
Ok, I’ll bite the bullet. How old are you? Just so we’re on the same page here_

_Doug 12:18pm  
But I could just lie…_

_Me 12:19pm_  
_I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, how’s that?  
I’m 26_

_Doug 12:21pm  
34_

Chell felt a small weight leave her shoulders, one she hadn’t even been aware she was carrying. They were doing nothing wrong, but still…she couldn’t deny it was a relief to learn that they were both old enough to make sensible choices. She found herself smiling, deciding what to write next. 

_Me 12:22pm  
That’s good. At least I’m not being out-literatured by a teenager_

_Doug 12:24pm  
Out-literatured? Really?_

_Me 12:25pm  
Does that make your eye twitch? You’re a grammar freak, aren’t you?_

_Doug 12:26pm  
How did you guess?_

_Me 12:26pm  
Just a wild stab in the dark!_

“Chell?”

The voice made her glance up guiltily, and she caught sight of her best friend’s intrigued look.

_Oh great…_

“Who are you texting?” Mel’s voice was full of insinuation, a smirk on her pretty, freckled face. 

Chell shoved her phone in her pocket, raising her hands to sign, ‘Just a friend’. 

“Which friend?” The question was a valid one. She didn’t have many friends, and Mel knew that all too well. 

‘A new one.’ 

“Ooh! Tell me more!” 

Chell couldn’t help smiling at Mel’s eagerness. There was very little in either of their daily lives that they could get excited about. 

‘You’ll have to wait five minutes,’ she signed. ‘I’m still working.’

“Yeah, you really looked like you were working.” 

Chell stuck her tongue out, and Mel laughed. Mel was on a mission to drag Chell to the gym with her during her lunch breaks. Chell went for moral support, mostly, to encourage Mel in her Olympic dreams, but she found she enjoyed being active. Her job and her book-related hobbies kept her fairly static, so she relished the chance to keep her body in trim. 

Her phone buzzed, and she placed her hand over her pocket automatically before remembering her company. 

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” Mel said cheerily, a too-innocent smile on her face. 

_There’s no way I’m living this down._

Shooting her friend a glare that had no sting in it, Chell unlocked her phone. 

_Doug 12:29pm  
Sounds dangerous_

She snorted, sending back a laughing emoji. 

“Okay,” Mel said, crossing her arms. “Now you’ve _got_ to tell me.” 

* * *

_Doug 4:47pm  
Got any distracting jokes?_

_Chell 4:48pm  
What do you call a patronising criminal going down some stairs? A condescending con descending :D_

_Doug 4:49pm  
Not bad!_

_Chell 4:49pm  
Thank you. What am I distracting you from?_

_Doug 4:50pm  
Trying not to kill Henry_

_Chell 4:50pm  
Is he stealing your stuff again?_

_Doug 4:51pm  
No, but he’s just…Henry_

_Chell 4:51pm  
He can’t help it!_

_Doug 4:53pm  
I know, which is why I’d feel bad for killing him_

* * *

_Doug 1:21pm  
Why have you sent me a picture of a cat?_

_Chell 1:22pm  
It’s cute!_

_Doug 1:22pm  
Can I call it Schrodinger?_

_Chell 1:23pm  
Oh, very original_

* * *

_Chell 9:05am  
Do you have ice cream near you?_

_Doug 9:06am  
It’s barely 9 in the morning. In November._

_Chell 9:06am  
That’s a no then?_

_Doug 9:07am  
Definitely. What do you want ice cream for?_

_Chell 9:08am  
Killer sore throat. I can’t get any until I leave work, I was just making sure that I didn’t have to be jealous_

_Doug 9:08am  
Sorry to hear you’re not well. I’d send medicinal ice cream if I could_

_Chell 9:09am  
I appreciate the thought_

_Doug 9:13am_  
_[1 attachment]  
This is the best I could do_

_Chell 9:14am  
Oh my god, did you draw that? That’s awesome! I love the little cocktail umbrella!_

_Doug 9:14am  
Every sundae should have one_

_Chell 9:15am  
You’re really good. What else do you draw?_

_Doug 9:17am  
Just stuff that pops into my head_

_Chell 9:18am  
Can I see?_

_Doug 9:19am_  
_Maybe.  
If I feel brave enough_

_Chell 9:19am  
No pressure at all, I’m just interested :)_

_Doug 9:20am  
Thanks_

* * *

_Chell 8:41pm  
Hey, Doug…_

_Doug 8:42pm  
Chell…_

_Chell 8:42pm  
I just wanted to say that I’m glad you mistook me for Henry. I like our chats_

_Doug 8:44pm  
Me too. They brighten my day_

_Chell 8:45pm_  
_Likewise :)_  
_But I just wanted to say that I’m here if you ever need to talk. Type. Whatever. Because we’re entering proper friend territory now, and I make sure that all my friends know that  
Sorry for getting all serious, but…yeah_

_Doug 8:48pm  
Thank you, but I wouldn’t want to burden you_

_Chell 8:48pm  
You wouldn’t be a burden_

_Doug 8:52pm  
You don’t know that_

_Chell 8:52pm  
??_

_Doug 8:58pm_  
_I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. Thank you for the kind thought, and same to you  
Have a good evening_

_Chell 8:59pm  
You too_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Very short and sweet this time. I'll hopefully get the next one out after Christmas. Have a wonderful holiday :)


	4. Chapter Four

Chell hated winter. She was never unaware of the fact, but when walking home at 5:30 meant walking home in the dark, she couldn’t help but be reminded. It was a particularly cold 5:30, too, and several streetlamps were out, making perfectly innocent side streets look like sets from horror movies. 

She hesitated at the turning into an alley that was much darker than usual. Chell wasn’t a coward by any means, but the alley looked decidedly unappealing. She mentally calculated how much time she would spend going the long way around. 

_Not loving the idea of ending up as a case for the Winchester brothers_ , she thought, debating. 

Her phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her pocket automatically. 

_Doug 5:47pm_  
_What are your thoughts on Polidori?_

_Me 5:47pm_  
_Not familiar with the name. I’ll look it up when I get home. Currently plucking up the courage to walk down a dark scary alley_

_Doug 5:48pm_  
_What? Chell, that doesn’t sound safe_

_Me 5:48pm_  
_It’s probably fine, it’s just that there are usually more lights than this. For some reason I’m stalling_

_Doug 5:48pm_  
_Can I call you?_

She blinked, eyebrows lifting in surprise. He’d never asked _that_ before. A second text came through as she was contemplating her reply.

_Doug 5:49pm_  
_I don’t want to freak you out, I just thought it might be helpful to stay on the line_

_Me 5:49pm_  
_That’s kind, but I can’t exactly talk_

She hadn’t raised the topic of her mutism, too comfortable in communicating with written words, where her silence couldn’t make things awkward. Part of her had known that the subject would come up if she wanted to prolong the friendship, but she’d hoped it would last longer. 

_Ah well._

_Doug 5:50pm_  
_Because of your throat? That’s fine, you don’t have to say anything. I won’t either, I’ll just stay on the line until I hear you get home. Okay?_

Chell found herself surprised again. She hadn’t considered that he’d have assumed she meant her cold was the cause. 

_And perhaps it’s for the best if he doesn’t speak either. I don’t want a one-sided conversation to be the first time we communicate outside of a text._

She was tempted to turn him down. The alley was most likely empty. She was being ridiculous because she was tired and hungry and had had a trying day. But it was precisely because she was tired and hungry and had had a trying day that she answered the way that she did. 

_Me 5:50pm_  
_Ok_

For a moment she waited, still lingering under a streetlight, feeling strangely apprehensive. When her phone buzzed in her hand, she actually jumped. 

_Incoming call: Doug_

With a hand that didn’t seem entirely steady, she swiped to answer and pressed it to her ear. There was near silence on the other end, just soft, quiet breathing. She started walking, eyeing the shadows as she passed. Vaguely, she wondered whether the breathing should have seemed…creepier. But it didn’t. If anything, it was reassuring. 

Her footsteps echoed against the brick walls either side of her, making her cringe. If there _was_ anything in the shadows – as unlikely as that was – she would rather not announce her presence to it. 

She reached the end of the alley without incident, turning onto a better lit street. Deep down she’d known she’d be fine, which left her feeling a little embarrassed at her hesitation, but there was always the threat of ‘what if?’ 

Doug moved something, perhaps paper, and she heard the faint tap of a cup being set down on a coaster. It made her smile for some reason, and she hoped she wasn’t disturbing him too much. She quickened her pace. She had basic human needs to take care of. 

As if reminded of the fact, her stomach gave a demanding growl. She thought she heard a faint amused huff, and her cheeks grew warm. 

_Surely he didn’t hear that._

She hurried down the additional two blocks, finally reaching her front door. One-handed, she fumbled with her keys, clicking on the light as soon as she’d pushed the door open. Once it was closed, she leaned her back against it, lowering her arm and watching the call time increase second by second. Feeling a touch awkward, she ended the call and fired off a quick text. 

_Me 6:03pm_  
_Home, if you couldn’t guess. Thanks for the back-up_

_Doug 6:04pm_  
_It’s no problem, glad you made it_

She smiled, shoving her phone in her pocket so she could shrug off her coat. It vibrated again, and she fished it back out.

_Doug 6:05pm_  
_Oh, and get some food_

Chell let out a silent laugh, her embarrassment colouring her cheeks a second time.

_Me 6:05pm_  
_Oh god, I can’t believe you heard that!_

_Doug 6:06pm_  
_I think your entire street heard it_

_Me 6:06pm_  
_You’re the worst_

_Doug 6:07pm_  
_Sometimes_

Shaking her head, smiling, Chell returned her phone to her pocket and headed for the kitchen. 

_Wouldn’t want to disturb an entire street._

* * *

Doug set his phone down on the table next to him and reached for his peppermint tea. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He’d been happy to help Chell, determined even, but it had taken all of his courage to suggest calling her. Part of him had been relieved when she’d said she’d lost her voice. Not talking had certainly taken the pressure off. 

Still, the simple call had his pulse racing. The huff of her breath, the sound of her footsteps, even the faint growl of her stomach…it had all made her seem so real, more than she ever had been before. It wasn’t that he hadn’t known she was real, of course, but knowing it and hearing it with his own ears were two very different things. She existed. _Was_ existing at that very moment. Hopefully in her kitchen. 

Her texts had made it easy for him to craft a voice for her in his mind. Not for the first time, he wondered how well their conversations might flow in the real world. 

_Not half as well_ , he thought, sipping his tea. _You’d be terrified._

No, they couldn’t meet face to face. She’d undoubtedly be disappointed, what with his awkward manner, too-lanky frame and too-large nose. Not to mention the quirks that came with his condition. It was far better to stick to texts, where he could interact with her smoothly, even pretend that he could have a normal conversation with someone without the help of his meds. 

He knew all of that, and it was perfectly logical to boot, but he still couldn’t soothe the pang of regret. He liked talking with her. Over the last month or so, she’d become an integral part of his life. She was smart and funny and thoughtful, and he wasn’t so foolish that he didn’t realise he was well on his way to losing his heart to someone he’d never seen or spoken to. The simple truth was that he cared about her. He cared about her far more than he should, and it terrified him. 

_You still don’t know she’s not a serial killer_ , he countered lamely. But then that could be true of anyone; his neighbours, his co-workers, strangers on the street. 

_Poor argument, Rattmann._

But even that made him smile, because he knew she wasn’t. And not just because it was statistically unlikely. 

Shaking his head, Doug returned his cup to its coaster, turning his attention back to his painting. It didn’t do to dwell. He needed to try and remember that. 

* * *

Chell sat back in her chair and let herself laugh for a moment. She’d been looking from her computer screen to the clock so often, she was sure she must look like a spectator at a tennis match. 

_Still an hour until lunch, looking an extra six times isn’t going to make those hands move any faster._

Repeating the mantra to herself, she reached for the next book to check, typing its reference number into the database so she could make sure its information entry was correct. System upgrades were such a pain in the ass. Rosie shot her a look from behind the pile of theology text books she was stamping for a stressed-looking student. 

“You all right?”

Chell nodded, signing, ‘Just tired’. 

“Want your break early?”

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was a longer afternoon. ‘I’m good.’ 

Rosie smiled in acknowledgement and pushed the pile of textbooks across the desk. “Back in two weeks, hun.” 

“Got it, thanks.” 

Chell smiled sympathetically as the student struggled away with their burden. Her phone vibrated, scooting a few inches across the desk. She reached for it, smile widening. 

_Doug 11:28am_  
_[1 attachment]_  
_New edition of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Look at the cover art!_

She took in the photo, the pristine new book with its suitably Gothic cover, the intriguing glimpse of a paint-stained hand. She blinked. He hadn’t managed to snap the entire thing, cutting off the bottom, but she could clearly see a corner of obtrusive, familiar neon pink on the book’s spine. It wasn’t a store book, it was a library book. 

A hint of suspicion and possibility wound its way through her mind. 

_No_ , she told herself firmly. 

And yet…

Feeling simultaneously confused and enlightened, Chell glanced down at the book in her lap, focusing on its pink identity tag. She felt her heartrate speed up. 

_Calm down, Chell, a lot of libraries probably use this colour._

She looked back at the photo, this time studying the background. It was blurred brown carpet and nothing more. 

_This is ridiculous. A lot of libraries probably have brown carpet._

Still, the thought wouldn’t leave. 

_It’s a coincidence. And even if he_ is _here, neither of you has ever talked about meeting up. It would be a mistake for sure, why ruin a good thing?_

Inwardly nodding firmly at her inner voice’s wisdom, she set her phone aside and turned back to the database. But the possibility was like a woodpecker, jabbing at her thoughts, making it difficult to concentrate. 

_Damn it._

Picking up her phone again, she stood, sending her wheeled chair backwards. Rosie was thankfully too busy to notice. Buzzing with sudden apprehension, Chell made herself walk calmly in the direction of Classical Poetry. 

_I’m just going to confirm that there’s no one there_ , she told herself, unsure if it was an attempt at convincing or a downright lie. 

Round the corner of Self-Help, between Religion and Travel. 

_You’re such an idiot, Chell. He’s probably not even in this city._

Past Plays, around another corner and…

_Empty._

She stood still for a moment, trying to decide if she was disappointed or relieved. The little poetry corner looked undisturbed, its table free of clutter. On a whim, she drifted closer, examining the shelf. There were a few unhelpful gaps. A couple of old, battered Coleridge collections. Nothing conclusive. 

_Well, so much for that._

Biting her lip, she returned to the front desk, still unsure how to feel. She knew her reactions were indicative of _something_ , but as to what that something was, well… 

Rosie was serving the last person in her line, and was free from distractions enough to shoot her a curious, slightly judgemental look. Chell cringed at the obvious way her supervisor leaned sideways to peer around her customer, and she glanced at the floor to avoid her gaze. 

“Thank you, sir. Have a good day.”

“You too.” 

The customer turned away from the desk, and Chell narrowly avoided hitting him with her shoulder. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Thankfully he didn’t wait for a reply, and Chell had a quick, strange impression of a colourless man – dark coat, dark hair, pale skin – before he was past and out the door. Shaking her head, she returned to her seat, signing to Rosie that she’d had to go to the bathroom. Shoving her foolishness aside, she typed a return text. 

_Me 11:43am_  
_Looks like a nice edition. Where did you find that?_

She deleted and rewrote the last question twice before deciding to let it stand. Despite everything, she was still curious. Not that she expected him to tell her where he’d been. Not by name or location, anyway. 

_Doug 11:45am_  
_Are you implying you don’t know a library book when you see one?_

She couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. Maybe one day she would tell him what her job title was. 

_Me 11:46am_  
_How dare you, library books and I are the best of friends_

It was a good reply; light, flippant, absolutely devoid of any hint of the rapid emotional rollercoaster she’d sent herself on. 

_It’s for the best_ , she told herself. And yet…

Yep, that was definitely disappointment she was feeling. 

_Damn it._

Much, much later, it occurred to her that she could have searched the database for outgoing Coleridge, but she fell asleep before the thought was fully formed, and had forgotten entirely when her alarm went off the following morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year!


	5. Chapter Five

_Me 10:10am_   
_In that picture you sent yesterday…you had paint on your hand. Do you paint as well as draw?_

_Doug 11:40am_   
_Sorry, was in a meeting. Yes, sometimes_

_Me 11:45am_   
_Are you good?_

_Doug 11:47am_   
_How can I possibly answer that?!_

_Me 11:48am_   
_I’ll take that as a ‘yes, but I’m modest’ :P_

_Doug 11:49am_   
_If it makes you happy, dear_

Chell studied his last message, brow furrowed. It was the kind of thing she’d have written to a friend in jest, and she was inclined to translate it that way this time, however…Doug didn’t usually include endearments in his texts, bantering or otherwise. 

“Oof, sorry! The line was long.” 

Chell glanced up as Mel slid a cup across the table to her, and she accepted it gratefully, sniffing at the little hole in the lid before lowering her gaze to type.

“It’s definitely hazelnut, like you asked for,” Mel said defensively. 

_Chell 11:50am_   
_Talking to you makes me happy_

Chell put her phone down to sign, ‘I know, I just like the smell!’ 

“Oh, okay. Who are you texting? Oh! Is it him again? Can I see?” Her arm shot across the table like a striking snake, retreating with her prize. 

‘Hey!’ Chell mouthed, snapping her fingers in Mel’s direction. 

“I’ll give it back, wait a sec.” 

Chell fidgeted, glowering at the bubbly redhead, but reluctantly giving into a smile at some of Mel’s expressions. 

“Oh my god, Chell, are you _flirting_ with him?”

Chell shook her head, mouthing ‘No!’ She hesitated, wrinkling her nose and signing, ‘I don’t think so…’

“I don’t know, seems kinda flirty to me.”

‘I’m just showing an interest. If that’s flirting, then…’ She shrugged.

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mel accused, setting the phone down between them. 

‘Does it matter?’

“Should it? No. Does it? Probably. Humans are shallower than they’d like to be,” Mel said sagely, reaching for her coffee. 

Chell pulled a face. _Ugh._

Mel brightened. “You could ask him for a photo!”

Chell shook her head vehemently. ‘No way! Too awkward!’

A worryingly evil grin crept onto her friend’s face. “I’ll do it for you, then,” she said, snatching up the phone once more. 

_No! Don’t you dare!_

She lunged across the table, gripping Mel’s wrist, scrabbling to take the phone out of her hand. 

“Hey, hey,” Mel was saying, “I’m only teasing, Chell. I wouldn’t do that.” 

_You’d damn well better not._

The look on Mel’s face in response to her glare told her that she’d translated Chell’s silent words perfectly. 

“I wouldn’t,” Mel repeated, smiling gently as Chell withdrew back to her own side of the table. She flipped the phone in Chell’s direction, showing her what she was looking at. The Coleridge cover photo. “He’s got nice hands, I’ll give him that.”

Chell snorted silently, folding her arms. She kept her face blank, but felt her skin grow a little warmer.

_I noticed, thanks._

There was barely much of a hand to see, but enough to show her a finely crafted knuckle and wrist, a thumb that hinted at long, dextrous fingers, and that telling splodge of blue paint. An artist’s hand, if ever she’d seen one. Or, how she’d imagine an artist’s hand to look, in any case. 

Mel finally surrendered the phone, and Chell placed it on her lap, where her inquisitive friend couldn’t easily reach it. 

“You like him,” Mel stated flatly. 

‘Can we not have this conversation?’ she signed, dropping her hands and sipping her coffee. 

“No,” Mel said in a no-nonsense tone. “I just want to get a couple things straight. You like him, you do. That’s fine, people meet in all sorts of ways. I just want you to be careful. It’s totally your business, but please…if you meet up with him, do me a favour and make sure it’s somewhere public, okay?”

Chell nodded, eager to change the subject. 

“And in the meantime, find out everything you can. You’ve been messaging for nearly two months and barely shown any curiosity about each other, it’s driving me crazy!”

Chell shot her a pointed look. _Really?_

“Hey, I’m invested now,” Mel said with a shrug. “I ship it.”

‘Please don’t ship real life people, it’s weird.’

“You already know I’m weird, it’s why you like me.”

Chell couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s sweet smile. _True enough._

The door of the coffee shop opened, letting in a gust of cold air. A bored-looking teenager marched up to the counter, a bundle of flyers clenched in one hand. 

“Can I leave these for your customers?” he asked the barista. 

“Sure, just don’t cover up the other flyers.” 

The teen left a small pile on the countertop, then turned to leave. Another gust of wind accompanied his exit, and one of the flyers shot off the pile, swirling to the floor at Chell’s feet. She picked it up, scanning its stark black and white text. 

‘Do you want to help shape the world? Volunteer as a test subject and receive $100 for your time. The future starts with you!’ 

Chell snorted at the tagline, but found her interest piqued by the $100. She scanned the small print. 

‘All tests are 100% safe within the Aperture Science Health and Safety Guidelines. Non-disclosure agreements MUST be signed by all applicants. Please do not apply if you are physically impaired.’ 

“What is that?” Mel asked, removing the lid of her cappuccino and consequently getting foam on her nose as she sipped it. 

Chell sniggered, tapping her own nose to demonstrate, and Mel wiped the foam on her napkin. She passed the flyer over, letting Mel read it for herself. 

“You going to volunteer?”

‘Maybe. Things have been a bit tight with just my library wage.’

“Well, be careful. That Aperture went through some sort of scandal in the 60s. Ethics, cover-ups, that kind of thing.” 

‘That was a long time ago. I’m sure it’s different now. What about you? Need some extra cash?’

Mel shook her head, lips pressed together tightly. “No, thank you. I don’t see the need to ever set foot in a science lab!” 

_Well, I might_ , Chell thought, taking another gulp of coffee. _It could be interesting._

* * *

Doug logged onto the email account he’d created for the test subject applications, wondering which way it would go. In his experience, they either received a mere handful of embarrassing applicants or were inundated with them. He reached for his coffee as the inbox loaded, casting a quick eye over his phone. No new messages. 

By contrast the inbox was soon filled with them, and he inwardly groaned. 

_Unread mail (168)_

Scrolling down, he immediately deleted any that had spelling mistakes in the subject header. Henry always called him a snob for doing that, but Doug had found that it cut out a lot of unsuitable people. Even when he was done, there were still 112 messages to go through. He picked up his phone.

_Me 9:13am_   
_Kill me_

Sighing, he opened the first email, skimming the relevant parts of the attached application form. Methodically, he began to work his way down the list, thankful when he was interrupted by the rattle of an incoming text.

_Chell 9:22am_   
_I’m not going to jail for you!_

He chuckled, typing. 

_Me 9:23am_   
_I guess I can’t argue with that_

Turning back to the emails, he discarded the one he was reading and moved on to the next. 

_Chell 9:27am_   
_What’s up?_

_Me 9:28am_   
_168 emails in my work inbox_

_Chell 9:28am_   
_First world problems :P_

_Me 9:29am_   
_Touché_

He ran out of coffee about a third of the way down the list. By halfway he’d stopped even reading applicant information, simply skipping to the part of the form that indicated if they could solve tests. 

_Chell 10:14am_   
_Done yet?_

_Me 10:15am_   
_Not even close_

_Chell 10:16am_   
_Wow, you’re really slow :P_

_Me 10:17am_   
_Maybe someone with a smart mouth is holding me up_

_Chell 10:17am_   
_Haha! Fair point, I’ll leave you alone now_

Doug smiled, tracing his thumb over her name. He was glad she read his messages how he intended them to be read. Looking back over them, some seemed a little sharp, but he’d meant them in dry humour. Judging by her responses, that was exactly how Chell was reading them. 

An hour later he’d whittled down the applicants to an even 60 and forwarded them all to the Human Resources department. They would be the ones to pick the people that would actually be put forward for testing. Doug had designed and built the device they would use, but his involvement in testing was minimal. 

_Me 11:23am_   
_Done, thank god_

_Chell 11:25am_   
_Well done. You deserve a cup of coffee_

_Excellent idea_ , he thought, getting up from his desk chair and hearing his joints pop as he stretched. Her message from a few weeks ago, when she’d said his texts made her happy, had stayed with him, making him smile whenever he thought about it. The memory of it now made him feel daring as he typed his reply. 

_Me 11:26am_   
_Are you offering?_

He watched the dancing ellipsis of her typing, feeling a little thrum of anticipation. It was an intriguing game they were playing. He wasn’t altogether sure he was very good at it, but he was certainly enjoying the experience. 

_Chell 11:27am_   
_Sure_   
_Let me know when you’re having a bad day and I’ll send you a Starbucks card :D_

Doug laughed, running a hand through his hair, then smiled fondly as another message came through before he could respond.

_Chell 11:28am_   
_Wait, can I do that through text?_

_Me 11:29am_   
_I don’t know, but thanks for the thought_

_Chell 11:30am_   
_Any time. Everyone deserves coffee_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I realise 'bubbly Mel' has become the fandom cliché, but she does compliment Chell that way!


	6. Chapter Six

_Let me know when you’re having a bad day and I’ll send you a Starbucks card._

How could she have known what his day was going to turn into? 

Doug gripped the handle of his paintbrush tightly, watching his knuckles turn ivory. Painting helped, it really did, but sometimes…sometimes it just wasn’t enough. Nothing was going right, and he felt too crowded to concentrate. Frustrated, he hurled the brush across the room, not even caring when it left a black smudge on the wall and clattered to the floor. 

A figure looked at it disapprovingly, tutting at him, and he turned away. Hands shaking, he tugged his phone out of his pocket, unsure if what he was doing was wise, but too desperate to think about it.

_Me 11:12pm_   
_Chell, are you still awake?_

He got up and paced, tapping the phone against the palm of his left hand, and tried hard to remember his breathing exercises. 

_It isn’t real._

_Chell 11:13pm_   
_Just about. What’s up?_

_Me 11:13pm_  
 _I got held up at work, ended up taking my meds late, now I can’t think_  
 _My head’s too noisy, there are shadows everywhere_  
_I don’t feel like I have the strength to wait it out_

A cold strand of clarity pierced the haze, and he was momentarily horrified. 

_You’ve ruined it now. She’s going to see that you’re crazy and you’ll never hear from her again._

But then there she was, proving him wrong in the best possible way.

_Chell 11:14pm_   
_Ok. What can I do?_

He could have cried.

_Me 11:14pm_   
_Talk to me_

_Chell 11:14pm_   
_What about?_

_Me 11:15pm_   
_Anything_   
_How was your day?_

_Chell 11:15pm_   
_Pretty boring, not sure it would help you. How about questions?_

He considered, anxious, his phone cradled in both hands. 

_Me 11:15pm_   
_Questions?_

_Chell 11:16pm_   
_Yeah, we can take turns. And you can always pass if you don’t want to answer_

_Me 11:16pm_   
_Sure_

_Chell 11:17pm_   
_What’s your favourite colour?_

_Me 11:17pm_   
_Blue. It’s calming_   
_You?_

_Chell 11:17pm_   
_Probably yellow. I like warm, sunny things!_   
_How about favourite book NOT written by a pre-20th century poet_

_Me 11:18pm_   
_That’s too hard_   
_Favourite movie?_

_Chell 11:18pm_   
_The Mummy_

_Me 11:18pm_   
_Which one?_

_Chell 11:19pm_   
_Not the crappy new one. Brendan Fraser_   
_You?_

_Me 11:19pm_   
_Probably When Harry Met Sally_

_Chell 11:20pm_   
_For real??_

He laughed at her tone of surprise, admiring the way it came through so clearly. Some of the tension drained out of him, and his pacing slowed to a steady walk. 

_Me 11:20pm_   
_What, you think a straight guy can’t like rom coms?_

_Chell 11:20pm_   
_Fair enough_   
_How are you doing now?_

_Me 11:21pm_   
_A little better, thanks. Your questions are a good idea_

_Chell 11:22pm_   
_Then I’d better think of more_   
_Can you wire a plug?_

_Me 11:22pm_   
_Of course. Can you?_

_Chell 11:22pm_   
_If I had instructions to follow…_

_Me 11:23pm_   
_Hmm I suppose I can count that_   
_Can you change a lightbulb?_

_Chell 11:23pm_   
_Don’t insult me :P_   
_Favourite band?_

_Me 11:24pm_   
_Too many to name_

_Chell 11:24pm_   
_At the moment, then_

_Me 11:24pm_   
_I like Amarante_

_Chell 11:25pm_   
_Haven’t heard of them. I’ll check them out :)_

For the next forty minutes, they traded light, unimportant questions while Doug’s heartrate decreased and his head cleared. He knew it was the medication, but he had to give credit to Chell’s company too. She kept him grounded in reality when it would be all too easy to slip into the fog of voices and noise. 

He wasn’t quite ready to end the conversation, but neither did he want to keep her up. She probably had to work the next day, as he did. 

_Me 12:09am_   
_Chell, I can’t thank you enough for this_   
_I’m sorry I haven’t talked about this before. There didn’t seem to be an opportunity_

_Chell 12:11am_   
_Hey, I get it. We weren’t exactly covering heavy topics up until now, and we haven’t asked for details of each other’s lives either_   
_If there’s stuff you don’t want to tell me, I completely understand, but I’m concerned about you_   
_And kinda curious, if I’m being honest. But again, I get it if you don’t want to say. Just tell me I’m being nosy and I’ll shut up with no hard feelings :)_

_Me 12:12am_   
_No, it’s okay_   
_I trust you_

And he did. Somehow, he trusted her completely, this young woman who was both an intimate friend and a perfect stranger. Things had already gone far enough. He needed to be completely honest about what she was getting herself into.

_Me 12:13am_   
_I have schizophrenia, and all the paranoia and anxiety that comes with it_   
_It’s usually well controlled, but as I said, I took my meds late. I’m under a lot of stress too. That doesn’t help_

He leaned back against the couch cushions and waited. He wouldn’t be surprised if she disappeared forever now. Schizophrenia carried such a stigma, it had become a scary word. He knew that all too well. 

_Chell 12:14am_   
_Do you feel more in control now?_

He blinked at the unexpected question.

_Me 12:14am_   
_Yes, thank you_   
_I’m sorry I’ve kept you up so late_

_Chell 12:15am_   
_It’s fine, but maybe you could owe ME a coffee now_

_Me 12:15am_   
_You’re not freaked out?_

The question needed asking, however much he dreaded the answer. 

_Chell 12:17am_   
_No, I don’t think so. I’m more worried about you_   
_Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t really expect you to say all of this. Your texts are so… I don’t want to say ‘normal’, that sounds like you’re not somehow, and that’s not what I mean at all_   
_I just can’t think of the right word_

_Me 12:17am_   
_I get it_

_Chell 12:18am_   
_It doesn’t bother me, that’s the main thing I need to say_   
_I might need to get used to it, but that’s all_   
_I’m just glad I could help_

Doug shook his head slightly, swallowing a lump that had developed in his throat. How had he gotten so lucky as to find a friend like her?

_Me 12:19am_   
_I don’t deserve you_

_Chell 12:19am_   
_I’m just being nice :)_

_Me 12:20am_   
_Then I should be nice too and let you get to sleep_

_Chell 12:20am_   
_Sure you’ll be ok now?_

_Me 12:20am_   
_I promise_

_Chell 12:21am_   
_Ok, but I’m going to check in with you in the morning_

_Me 12:21am_   
_Okay_   
_Good night, Chell_

_Chell 12:21am_   
_Good night :)_

He felt alone knowing that she wouldn’t be replying again any time soon, but it didn’t feel lonely. The warmth her words inspired in him still lingered, like a security blanket, reminding him that she cared. He’d had bad episodes before, and had either weathered them alone or turned to family. Never before had he turned to someone he knew as little as her. 

She’d wanted to help. She worried about him. She cared. 

It still seemed hard to believe, yet he knew it was real. Chell had expressed herself so plainly – and the texts were evidence – that he knew he could never doubt her. Not even his paranoid thoughts could do that. 

It was such a comforting thought that he fell asleep quite easily, worn out by the late hour and the exhausting fallout of his anxious evening. And in the morning, there was a bright message waiting for him. 

_Chell 7:00am_   
_Rise and shine! How are you doing?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The temptation to have Doug name The National as his favourite band was sooo strong! But in the end I decided to go in a less obvious direction. Amarante have a song called The Manic that gives me all the Doug feels, so it seemed appropriate.


	7. Chapter Seven

_I’m going to kill her,_ Chell thought, glaring daggers at Mel’s auburn braid as it swung with her momentum. _I’m going to kill her and dump her body in the lake._

It was Saturday morning, and far too early to be awake, let alone outside, jogging circuits of the park. Mel had been enthusiastic about a decent run, at a time of day that would give them the paths to themselves. Chell had, foolishly, agreed, a decision she was now regretting. She’d already run two circuits more than she’d intended, and her lungs were threatening to spontaneously combust. 

Mel wasn’t showing any signs of needing a break, but it was getting harder to tell the further away she got. The growing distance between them was because Chell was slowing down, not that Mel was speeding up, and she planned to call a halt the next time they passed the coffee kiosk, whether Mel noticed she’d dropped out or not. 

_In fact, it would probably be better if she didn’t notice_ , Chell reflected. _That way she can carry on happily jogging in a giant circle over and over again, and I can get my breath back._

As it happened, Mel was far more attuned to the thud of Chell’s sneakers than anyone could have predicted. No sooner had Chell veered off the path and slowed to a walk, when her friend did the same and doubled back towards her. 

“Tired?” 

‘Any sane person would be,’ Chell signed wearily, trying to make her leaden arms cooperate. 

“Fine, we’ll take a break.” 

_You’re too kind._

After running through some stretches and sipping from their water bottles, the two of them bought take-out coffees and took them to a nearby bench. 

“To be honest, I was expecting you to drop out sooner,” Mel admitted. 

Chell glared at her. 

“You’re a lot tougher than you give yourself credit for.” 

Chell sent her a sarcastic thumbs up, and Mel laughed, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“You’re coming to Virgil’s party tonight, right?” 

Mel turned to her expectedly, frowning when Chell shook her head. 

“Why not? You haven’t been out in ages. Everyone really wants to see you.” 

Chell shrugged one shoulder, feeling awkward. She set her coffee down beside her to free up her hands. 

‘It’s not that I don’t want to see them, it’s just…’ She shrugged again. ‘It gets…tiring.’

“Tiring? What does?”

‘Making myself understood. Not everyone knows ASL, I get that, but…’ She halted, considering, then added, ‘It just gets awkward sometimes, and I hate that.’

“Aww, honey, I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to hide away.”

Chell smiled at her, amused. Despite being nearly thirty, Mel had an uncanny ability to jump between enthusiastic teenager and mom friend in the blink of an eye. 

“You never used to be like that when we hit the clubs back in college.”

_That was different_ , Chell defended silently. 

In a club the music was so loud that talking was impossible anyway. It had been easy to fit in. At a private party where everyone knew her, it wasn’t so straightforward. Her circle of friends tried hard to include her in everything they could, but it didn’t always work out. She could converse with Mel easily enough, but that was mostly down to her friend’s determination to learn how to read sign language perfectly, a gesture that Chell still felt touched by. 

‘I’ll go to something soon, I promise,’ she assured her vaguely. ‘I’m just tired.’ 

She cherished her friends, but the thought of spending an evening feeling awkward… 

_Not right now._

Not when there was someone she could talk to without feeling different or somehow not whole. She would have to tell him eventually. It was ill-advised to think that they could go on as they were forever. Texting was a starting point, not the be-all and end-all. She only hoped that if – when – they did meet, he still accepted her as she was. She had a feeling he would. After all, she’d accepted him, helped him through whatever episode he was struggling with. 

“You’re doing that drifting thing,” Mel pointed out with narrowed eyes. “You’re thinking of the artist guy again, aren’t you?”

Chell wavered, unsure how to answer. Her very hesitation gave her away. 

“You are,” Mel said with certainty. “Why don’t you just ask him if he’s–”

Chell held up a hand, cutting her off. ‘Not now. Let’s just finish our coffee in peace.’ 

“Fine. What else do you want to talk about?”

Reaching for a harmless subject, Chell signed, ‘What are you wearing to the party?’ 

Eagerly, Mel started to describe her dress in great detail, as Chell had known she would. She tried to hide her smile. Her friend was too predictable. 

Truthfully, she needed to think about whatever question Mel had been on the brink of asking. Because there was one more she needed to put to Doug herself, one that – thinking about it – she really should have asked much earlier. If she could only find the right way to do it.

* * *

A few days after her run in the park, Chell had devised her way in. She had two questions for Doug, but she was feeling a touch guilty about the first one. It was equally valid, but provided a handy lead into the one she really wanted to ask, hopefully in a moderately subtle way. Before all of that, however, she needed to begin with something generic.

_Me 7:50am_   
_Beautiful morning!_

She peered out of the window at the pouring rain, pocketing her phone so she could shrug on her coat.

_Doug 7:51am_   
_Not really, my car broke down_

_Me 7:51am_   
_Oh damn. Sorry to hear that, what a crappy start_

Outside, hood firmly pulled up, she looked at his reply, thankful for her phone’s splash-proof cover.

_Doug 7:52am_   
_To say the least. It’s miserable out here_

She silently chuckled, feeling a sense of kinship in the fact that he was out somewhere too, braving the elements like she was. Still, she hadn’t forgotten that she had an answer to seek.

_Me 7:53am_   
_I hope you don’t mind me asking, but…last week, when you were struggling, I got the impression there was no one nearby to help you…?_

_Doug 7:54am_   
_Yes, I live alone. Why?_

_Me 7:54am_   
_No partner?_

She wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t subtle at all, not even with the lead in. She sent it anyway. 

_Doug 7:54am_   
_Just me_   
_Chell, what are you getting at?_

_Me 7:55am_   
_Nothing in particular, just curious_

Making an executive decision as a raindrop rolled down her nose, she turned in the direction of the bus stop. She lived on the opposite side of town from the library. Not a difficult journey, but it wasn’t a day for commuting on foot. She joined the group already waiting. There should be a bus along any moment, offering a seat, fifteen minutes shaved off her commute, and, most importantly, a roof. 

Shoving her hands in her coat pockets, she settled in to wait, keeping an eye on the road. Someone hurried up to join the small crowd, and Chell became aware of an irritating drip-drip-drip on her shoulder. She turned, glaring, to see a frazzled-looking man in a coat that clearly wasn’t waterproof, fighting to juggle an umbrella and his cell phone. Pointedly, she stepped away from him, moving out of range of the water running off his umbrella.

“Oh god, sorry,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes, and nearly dropping his phone as he took a step back. 

_Jeez, is everyone glued to their phones these days?_

Feeling hers vibrate next to her pocketed hand, she suppressed a sheepish grin. 

_Guess I’m not much better._

At least the bus was on time. 

* * *

_Me 7:57am_   
_What about you? Roommate?_

Doug settled uncomfortably into his seat, his umbrella propped between his legs, making his knees wet. His socks were wet too. The bus was crowded enough to make him nervous. He was thoroughly unhappy about his situation. At least the bus would get him to the outskirts of town, then Henry could pick him up.

_Chell 8:00am_   
_No, just me. That’s not exactly what you wanted to know, was it?_

He smiled at the slightly cheeky text, amused at how she was practically calling herself out as well as him. She’d asked first, after all. 

_Me 8:00am_   
_Not exactly_

_Chell 8:00am_   
_No partner. Not right now anyway_

_Me 8:01am_   
_Oh? Got someone in mind?_

He tapped the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited, staring out of the steamed-up window. It was a baiting text, to say the least, and he almost dreaded her response.

_Chell 8:01am_   
_Possibly…_   
_He might not be interested though_

Doug exhaled slowly, recognising the corner he’d backed himself into. She could be talking about him. It certainly seemed like it, and god, he wanted her to be, but there was that annoying, nagging doubt, the possibility that she wasn’t. The possibility that he was misreading it. There was only one answer he could give her that would truthfully cover both options. 

_Me 8:03am_   
_He’d be an idiot if he wasn’t_

The bus slowed and opened its doors, and a few people tripped down the aisle to leave. The driver rattled out a generic thank you to them all, but for the last person he summoned genuine warmth.

“Nice to see you, Chell, have a good day.”

Doug’s head shot up so fast it almost made him dizzy. As the bus pulled away, he wiped the foggy window with his sleeve, catching a glimpse of a hooded, bundled-up figure walking away. His heart threatened to beat its way right out of his chest. 

_Think realistically about this_ , he tried to tell himself, but was cut down by a simple piece of logic.

_How many Chells can there be in this area?_

It had been her! It must have been. 

_And she’s the woman your umbrella dripped on_ , he realised, recognising her coat. _Great job._

He considered telling the driver to stop, running after her, explaining who he was, but he was rooted to his seat. He hadn’t seen her face, hadn’t looked at her properly when he’d apologised for dripping water on her. He was regretting that hasty interaction now.

_Should I tell her?_

_No, there’s nothing to tell. ‘I sort-of-but-not-really saw you on a bus’ sounds ridiculous. Especially if it turns out there is another Chell._

Making the sensible decision, Doug said nothing, merely exited the bus at his stop without asking the driver about her. That seemed too stalkerish, and he preferred to wait until she told him more details herself. It was only after her reply came in that he remembered the last thing he’d said to her. 

_Chell 8:12am_   
_He’s definitely not an idiot, but I guess he might be shy_

* * *  
Drying off in the staff room, Chell couldn’t stop smiling.

_He’d be an idiot if he wasn’t._

The phrase kept dancing through her head. She’d been a little…forward. Well, they both had, but she couldn’t regret it. It felt like they were finally getting near a topic they’d both so far avoided.

Her phone buzzed with a notification, and she reached for it, only to feel a pang of disappointment when the email icon flashed up. When she opened it, however, her brow rose with intrigued surprise.

‘From: Aperture Laboratories  
Subject: Successful testing application’

Hopeful, Chell opened the full email and started reading.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chell was having an interesting day. Aperture had been surprisingly quick about getting her in for testing, and so she found herself travelling there a mere week and a half after receiving their email. She hadn’t quite known what to expect, but Aperture had turned out to be so bizarre and eccentric, her expectations would have been completely off anyway. 

She had known about Aperture Laboratories. Everyone did. It was responsible for the employment of almost two thirds of the town’s population, after all. But she had never been there, and it was known for being secretive. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, (but they’d thankfully paid her expenses on a taxi), and she’d been surprised to learn that most of it was underground. 

_Good thing I’m not claustrophobic_ , she thought, as she was led through labyrinthine, windowless corridors. 

She’d had to surrender her phone along with her other personal effects, even her regular clothes, and she felt strange without it. Unarmed, almost. The tests themselves had been fascinating, complex puzzles that had proved a real challenge to her fitness and brain power. In her opinion, getting an opportunity to solve the elaborate test chambers made all the dull red tape worth it. Which was just as well, as she spent most of her time outside of the test chambers waiting for her debriefing interview. It seemed her muteness was proving to be a problem. 

She was shown into a small office by a silent employee, who gestured towards the table and chairs in the centre. Inwardly sighing, she sat down, watching the flow of pedestrian traffic through the glass panel in the door. People occasionally glanced in to send her polite, apologetic smiles, probably hoping she wasn’t going to sue them. She didn’t think she’d signed anything to state that she wouldn’t…

Finally, another scientist showed up. The one the others were waiting for, if their expressions were anything to go by. The newcomer seemed disgruntled, and somehow familiar. Chell frowned, studying him, trying to place him. Then it came to her. He was the douchebag with the drippy umbrella from the bus stop. 

_Okay, if he had to bus all the way out here, I guess I can muster up some sympathy for him_ , she decided graciously. 

After some additional conversation, Umbrella Man shook his head and opened the door. Chell glanced up at him politely as he shut it behind him. Seeming a little awkward, he set a thin stack of papers down on the table, then signed as he spoke. 

“Hi. They tell me you’re deaf?”

A common misconception. His signing was correct, but stiff, as if he didn’t have to do it very often. Chell decided to put him out of his misery. 

‘Not deaf,’ she signed back. ‘Just mute.’

“Oh,” he said, lowering his hands. “Right. Sorry for the misunderstanding. Um…I’m Do…uh, Dr. Rattmann.” He pulled out a chair and sat opposite her, retrieving a pen from his lab coat pocket. “I’m sorry, I’m not…I don’t usually do this. Interview test subjects, I mean. But apparently I’m the only one that understands sign language, which is…pretty disgraceful, to be honest. Sorry about that.” 

She smirked a little. He seemed surprised by her reaction, but relaxed a touch. Probably grateful she wasn’t about to kick up a fuss. There was no recognition in his face, but she wasn’t surprised. He may have apologised for the umbrella thing, but he hadn’t looked at her while he’d done it. 

He fumbled with his pen, leaking a blotch of ink on his index and middle fingers. 

“Damn it,” he muttered. 

Chell watched him inquisitively, reminded, inevitably, of Doug. This man had nice hands too, finely-boned, long-fingered, like Doug. Elegant hands. They suited his interesting features, his face equally fine-boned and angular, with a shock of untidy dark hair. Not a classically handsome face exactly, but…definitely engaging in its own way. When he looked up at her, meeting her gaze with a pair of unique, mismatched blue eyes, she felt a small jolt of awareness. 

_Very interesting features._

He wore a smart dark suit under his lab coat, and she could just see the side of his I.D. card: half of an awkward formal photo, and the tail-end of his surname. He seemed simultaneously nervous and annoyed, so she sent him a small, friendly smile. 

“Okay,” he spoke up, pulling a blank sheet of paper towards him. “So, uh…you’re subject 1498, correct?” 

Chell nodded. It seemed she’d surrendered her name along with her belongings. 

“I’m sorry, the other department has your file, otherwise I’d get all your information out of there.” He looked up to send her a look of frustrated apology. “I’m so sorry, this isn’t going well at all.” 

She smiled again, signing, ‘It’s okay.’ 

He hesitantly returned the smile, then bent his head to write her test subject number at the top of the page. 

“Well, I guess if I’m having to do their work for them, I can ask my questions first,” he said, looking back at her. 

She lifted her eyebrows in question.

“The device…how did it handle? Was it responsive enough? Light enough?”

Chell grinned. ‘It’s amazing! I had no idea that kind of technology was even possible.’ Gushing aside, she focused on his actual questions. ‘It handled fine. It kicks back a little though.’

“Yeah,” he said in a tone of agreement, scribbling her answers. “I tried to make it smoother, but it still kicks. It didn’t feel too cumbersome to carry around, though?”

Chell shook her head, peering at him until he looked up. ‘No, it’s fine. Did you create it?’

“Not exactly,” he said, running a self-conscious hand through his hair. “I designed and built this model, but I was working off technology that was developed much earlier.”

‘It’s an amazing achievement.’ 

He smiled, his pale cheeks gaining a little colour as he shrugged off her praise. “Thanks, but I didn’t do it alone.” 

She smiled too, finding his reaction kind of endearing. 

“Uh…so apparently you hold some of the highest test scores on record,” he went on, clearing his throat. “Can you tell me any feedback you have about the test chambers?” 

Nodding, Chell gave him her report. It was a slow process, as he kept having to glance down to write, but she managed to give him all the information she could think of. Before long, an hour had passed by, and Dr. Rattmann was shuffling his papers into a neater pile. 

“Thank you for your cooperation,” he said, as they both got to their feet. “I’m sure my colleagues will be in touch about further testing, in which case I guess I’ll see you again.”

She nodded again, showing her satisfaction with the arrangement. 

“I’ll show you to the locker room. Follow me.” 

Chell didn’t know how he managed to find his way, particularly when he sneaked a look at his cell phone while negotiating a corridor crossroads, but it wasn’t long before they were in the set of passageways that she remembered from her arrival. 

A tall, balding scientist met them around a corner and halted, grinning at Rattmann. 

“Wow, how’d you get her to smile?” 

“Talked to her like she’s a person,” Rattmann fired back without missing a beat. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s fine, she’s deaf.”

“Mute,” Rattmann told him. “Mute, not deaf, she can hear just fine.” His voice dropped to an exasperated hiss. “Jesus _Christ_ , Henry.” 

The other man glanced at her. “Oh…” 

‘And deaf people can lip read,’ she signed helpfully. 

Rattmann let out a short laugh, his features contorting as he fought to remain serious. “Yes, exactly, thank you.” 

“Huh?” said Henry articulately. 

“She said deaf people can lip read.”

“Since when do you know sign language?” 

“Since ages ago,” Rattmann responded, shoving his free hand in his lab coat pocket. “I decided to learn it in case it came in handy.”

Henry laughed. “Only you would learn things just for the hell of it.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Rattmann said rhetorically before moving the subject along. “Look, just apologise so I can let this poor lady out of here.”

Henry sent him an irked glance before looking obligingly at Chell. “My apologies, miss. I was unforgivably rude,” he recited formally. 

She clearly heard the underlying ‘don’t sue us’, and raised a sceptical eyebrow. _Sure._

“No hard feelings?” Henry said hopefully. 

She left him hanging for a beat, but then nodded, cranking up the edge of reluctance. 

“Great! Have a nice day now.” He clapped Rattmann heavily on the shoulder. “See you later, sunshine.” 

Rattmann closed his eyes briefly as Henry walked away, seeming equal parts irritated and embarrassed. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said as they began walking again. “God, how many times am I going to apologise to you today?”

Chell shrugged off his concern, more amused by the whole thing than annoyed. At least it would be one thing about her secretive day that she could share with Doug. 

Before long, they’d reached the locker room, and Rattmann was bidding her a professional goodbye. 

“Someone will show you out when you’re ready,” he told her. He held out a hand for her to shake, but then spotted the ink stain and thought better of it. “I, uh...it’s dry now, but…still.”

She sent him a smile, feeling a little sorry for him. ‘It’s fine,’ she signed. ‘Thanks for being so considerate today.’ 

“No problem. Safe journey home.” 

He smiled at her, then turned and retraced their steps down the corridor. Chell watched him go for a moment before heading in to find her things. She wasn’t a fan of the orange jumpsuit they’d made her wear. 

Once dressed, she exited the room to find one of the receptionists waiting for her. Someone, probably Dr. Rattmann, had informed her about Chell’s situation and had already called her a cab. Chell was surprised and grateful that she didn’t have to try and make herself understood, and her opinion of Aperture crept up a few notches. 

She yawned as she sat in the back of the taxi, worn out by what had turned out to be a very eventful day. Smiling, she tugged her phone out of her bag, feeling like she was being reunited with an old friend. She switched it on and waited as the notifications flooded in. 

_I’m unreachable for a day and suddenly I’m Miss Popular._

_Rosie 9:25am_   
_Ur back in 2morro right?_

_Mel 11:45am_   
_Is it today ur at the science thing?_

_Mel 12:02pm_   
_It is_   
_Let me know how u get on_

_Doug 15:16pm >_   
_I’m having one of those days_   
_Scratch that, weeks. And it’s only Tuesday_

_Mel 15:56pm_   
_Chellllll how long does testing take??_

_Mom 16:11pm_   
_Is Blue-Ray the same as HD?_

_Doug 17:12pm_   
_How was your day?_

She felt exhausted watching the messages load, and guiltily disregarded the ones from her mother, Rosie and Mel. Doug’s latest one had only been sent fifteen minutes ago. 

_Me 17:24pm_   
_Pretty interesting, can’t complain_   
_Did yours get any better? Sorry, I’ve been really busy today_

_Doug 17:26pm_   
_It’s okay, you’re not contractually obligated to reply_   
_Mine…got interesting too. Although I want to staple things to Henry, but that’s nothing new_

_Me 17:26pm_   
_Haha! I met a guy called Henry today. He was a douchebag_

_Doug 17:27pm_   
_Must be something about the name_

_Me 17:28pm_   
_I hope you’re not implying that all Henrys are douchebags_

_Doug 17:28pm_   
_Why?_

_Me 17:29pm_   
_Because it’s a really common name, we’d be overrun_

_Doug 17:29pm_   
_Might be too late_   
_Can you name me one Henry who isn’t a douchebag?_

Chell silently sniggered at their absurd conversation, leaning against the cab window. 

_Me 17:30pm_   
_Uh…Henry VIII, Henry Crawford, Henry Higgins…damn, you might be onto something_

_Doug 17:30pm_   
_That’s quite a damning list_

_Me 17:31pm_   
_Ah! Henry Cavill!_

_Doug 17:31pm_   
_Perhaps he’s the exception that proves the rule_

She grinned, outright snorting when another text came in a little later. 

_Doug 17:32pm_   
_Whoever he is_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The text from Chell's mom is a tribute to my parents, who both spell Blu-Ray with an extra E :D


	9. Chapter Nine

“Hey, Rattmann, you’re needed in Human Resources again.”

Doug glanced up at the head that had stuck itself around his lab door, not bothering to hide his disgruntled expression. 

“I’m actually quite busy…”

“Something about sign language?” the visitor said, shrugging. She was clearly not happy at being used as a messenger. 

_Right, the mute test subject._

He’d almost forgotten about her. Almost. 

“Fine, I’ll be right there.” 

The reluctant messenger disappeared, and Doug sighed heavily, tidying his notes and blueprints into a pile before departing. It was a seven minute walk to Human Resources. In the elevator he took the opportunity to check his phone, although he wasn’t expecting anything. It unlocked, revealing Chell’s latest message at the bottom of the thread. 

_Chell 8:35am_   
_Going to be quiet today, I have a Thing_

Her phrasing drew a smile to his lips, and he wondered what she was up to. Most likely something work related, since it was a Friday. 

Ever since the day he’d had to take the bus, he’d found himself looking at people’s faces much more than he normally did. Generally speaking, he preferred to keep his gaze firmly on the sidewalk, but now he couldn’t help looking up. Every young woman who crossed his path came under his subtle scrutiny as he wondered whether they were her. 

They hadn’t broached the subject of what had been implied on that day either. He wanted to, but hadn’t quite dared. He didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings, and there was always a risk of that with texts. Perhaps one day he’d feel confident enough to call, and actually speak this time. 

The elevator doors slid open, and he returned his phone to his pocket. The offices were all empty on the Human Resources corridor. Biting back his irritation at being interrupted for the sake of an empty corridor, Doug managed to find a lone secretary. 

“Excuse me, I thought I was needed for a test subject debriefing?” 

“For 1498?” the secretary asked, clicking his pen in a way that made Doug want to snatch it out of his hand. “She’s just finishing up. Do you want to see? She’s got one more chamber left.”

He almost snapped a negative, but something stopped him. He had to admit, he was a little curious about the silent young woman. Her testing scores had been unique. 

“Sure, why not.” 

The secretary directed him to an observation office, and he stepped in behind the group of gathered scientists, seeking a place at the window through to the test chamber. 

“Oh, hi, Dr. Rattmann. You’re early,” one of the women – he couldn’t remember her name – greeted him. 

“Mind if I watch?” he said, not feeling up to being drawn into conversation. 

“Of course not. She’s incredible!” 

He shuffled closer to the glass, peering down into the brightly-tiled room and immediately spotting the orange-clad figure. She was holding the portal device as if she’d been using it her entire life, and he couldn’t help but gape as she placed portals faster than anyone he’d ever seen, flinging herself across the room with momentum techniques without a single trace of fear. The test was designed to challenge her mentally and physically, and judging by her determined expression, it was doing just that. But she didn’t let it stop her. Even when she misjudged and failed to take out a turret, she merely knocked it over with the portal gun instead. 

Doug inwardly laughed at her audacity, even as he winced slightly for the device. 

“Oh my god, she can’t do that!” one of the scientists complained. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” he countered. 

“Yes, but it’s against the rules. She needs to follow them if she wants to keep testing for us. Make sure you tell her that, Rattmann.”

He turned back to the window, saying nothing. 

The test subject was contemplating the drop that would give her enough momentum to reach the exit. There was a turret blocking her path to the door that she would have to deal with immediately upon exiting her second portal. It would require very precise timing. She hesitated, but only for a brief moment. Taking a short run up, she dived head-first into the pit. Doug’s stomach flipped just watching her. She shot out of the portal high up on the wall, taking one hand off the portal device to bodily grab the turret by one of its legs. It opened its side panels to fire at her, and Doug thought his heart would stop. There were collective gasps around him. But before the turret could dispense a single shot, she’d reached the narrow platform and darted through the exit door. The turret dissolved as it hit the security field. 

Doug found himself grinning, not least because the complainer from before was harping on about the rules once more. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to solve it! There’s a way to get rid of the turret before making the jump.”

“She got through it in her own way, Barry,” the woman who’d greeted him said calmly. “It’s not her fault that there’s a loophole in your test design.” 

Doug bit his lip against another smile. “Well, I’d best go and debrief her,” he spoke up neutrally, leaving them to their argument. 

He waited in the corridor until one of the test subject handlers brought her along. Someone had given her a water bottle, he was pleased to see. They needed to treat her better this time around. 

“Hi,” he greeted her, smiling. “Nice to see you again.”

‘Thanks,’ she signed, tucking the bottle under her arm. ‘You too.’ 

He gestured her into an office, then turned to the handler. “Do you have her file?”

The woman looked at him, wide-eyed. “Um…no, sorry, Dr. Rattmann. I think Dr. Clements still has it.” 

Doug inhaled slowly through his nose. “I see. Thank you.” 

_Thank you once again, Clements, for making me look so unprofessional._

The woman – he refused to call her 1498, even in his own thoughts – glanced up at him as he sat down, her expression curious. He’d forgotten how intimidatingly stunning she was. He wasn’t sure of her ethnic background, (and had no file to look for clues), but compared to him she was exotic. Her milky-coffee skin, pert nose and full lips made him think she probably could have made it as a model. Her dark ponytail had grown dishevelled, and she pulled it out of its hair tie, combing through with her fingers while her gaze rested on him. Her eyes were her most fascinating feature: almond-shaped and clear grey, almost silver. Eyes that could have been as cold as steel had her smile not been so warm. 

“I was watching your last test,” he said conversationally. 

She raised her eyebrows, as if to say _Oh?_

“Impressive performance.”

She grinned at him. 

“Although I’ve been told by one of the team to remind you about the rules, otherwise they might not ask you back.” He shifted a little in his chair, adding, “Personally, I think you did great. You solved it, who cares how.”

‘Thanks,’ she signed. ‘I wasn’t happy about the turret. It wasn’t actually going to shoot me, was it?’

“Not with real bullets, no,” he assured her. “But I’m told it would have hurt.” 

She wrinkled her nose. 

“Which is exactly why I think you should be allowed to dispatch it however you want, but…that’s just me.” He shrugged. “So…tell me how this round of testing went.”

He scribbled her answers as she signed them, wrapping everything up within half an hour. He was guiding her back to the locker room in no time at all. 

“I’m sure someone from Human Resources will be in touch,” he told her with a polite smile. He held out his hand – free from ink this time – and she studied it for a beat before shaking it, her slight smirk indicating that she remembered his mishap from before. 

“Have a good day,” he told her, watching her sign, ‘You too’. 

As he turned to walk away, he spotted Henry approaching, and silently groaned. He liked the man, he really did, but he was endlessly frustrating. Warily, Doug hoped the test subject had already entered the locker room. The last thing he needed was a repeat of last time. That had been a public relations headache.

“Doug!” Henry boomed, his volume unnecessary for the amount of distance between them. “Coming for lunch?”

“It’s 4pm, Henry.”

“So? Oh, there’s your friend again. She’s not still mad at me, is she?”

Frowning at the words, he glanced back towards the locker room. The test subject was still there, her eyes wide, expression seemingly frozen in a look of shock that he couldn’t decipher. Surely Henry’s arrival hadn’t caused that? 

She caught his eye and seemed to snap out of it, biting her lip in worried thought before spinning and pushing the locker room door. Doug’s brow furrowed, and he looked at the place where she’d been standing. 

_What was that about?_

It wasn’t until later that he began to understand. 

_Chell 4:53pm_   
_Does the number 1498 mean anything to you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry it's such a short chapter, but that seemed the perfect place to end!


	10. Chapter Ten

Chell travelled home in a daze, unsure what to think, unsure if she was being cowardly by leaving, caught in cycles of argument with herself. 

_Doug is a common name_ , she reminded herself.

_Yes, but there wasn’t just a Doug. There was a Doug AND a Henry._

_No, if it had been him he would have said something._

_No he wouldn’t, not if he didn’t know._

A memory floated back to her: _‘The other department has your file, otherwise I’d get all your information out of there.’_

_Both Dougs were annoyed with their Henrys that day. And he was at the bus stop on the day he said his car broke down._

Her heartrate, which she’d managed to slow, started racing again. 

_You just want it to be him because deep down you’re terrified of meeting him and finding you don’t like the way he looks. You’re terrified that you’re shallow, and that your shallowness will ruin everything._

It was a bitter pill to swallow, and she sat locked in indecision while the cab driver negotiated town traffic. 

Suddenly, she felt stifled in the back seat, and reached forward to knock on the glass partition. The driver let her out where it was safe to do so, and she set off walking, trying to clear her head. 

_It’s no use, I can’t keep torturing myself like this. I need an answer, once and for all._

Before she could overthink it, she rattled out a text and sent it. 

_Me 4:53pm_   
_Does the number 1498 mean anything to you?_

Even if it proved to be a dead end, she would ask him to meet up or send a photo. Anything to stop the endless wondering. At first it had been fun, a game, almost, but as they grew closer, as time passed, it became something she could no longer be flippant about. 

She glanced at her screen, seeing the little ‘read’ icon underneath her message. There was no indication of a reply. She understood, even as she wanted to scream in frustration. It was potentially a big question. She would just have to wait. 

* * *

Doug stared at the words, re-reading them over and over. He couldn’t breathe. She was…

Phone in hand, he shot to his feet, leaving his lab at a walk that was nearly a jog. He retraced his steps to Human Resources, startling the secretary. 

“Do you have the file for subject 1498?” he asked breathlessly. “I need to check something.”

“Uh, sure.” The secretary scooted his chair backwards, opening a filing cabinet and sifting through its contents. “Here.”

“Thanks.” 

Doug took the unassuming brown card folder, retreating with it to an empty office. His hands were shaking. Leaning against the door, he flipped the file open, noting the mug shot photo that was paperclipped to the top. He scanned the first page, finding the information in seconds. 

‘Subject 1498. Name: Chell…’

The rest of the words blurred before his eyes. It had been right there, within easy access the whole time. He scrubbed his face with an unsteady hand, then unexpectedly laughed. She was real. She’d been there, in that very room, less than two hours ago. He’d shaken her hand. Had she known the whole time? No, she couldn’t have.

_She heard Henry call me by name. The look on her face…_

And she was still waiting for an answer. He drew his phone from his pocket, mind blank of any possible reply until he started typing. 

_Me 5:13pm_   
_I think it might mean everything to me_

It was a heartfelt, truthful reply, but one that seemed laughably free of the emotional anxiety he was going through.

_Me 5:14pm_   
_Did you make it home yet?_

_Chell 5:14pm_   
_No, I needed to think. Been wandering around the park for the last 20 minutes_

_Me 5:14pm_   
_Will you wait for me?_

He was already moving, returning her file and jogging back to his lab for his things. Regardless of her response, he needed to get out of there. 

_Chell 5:15pm_   
_Yes_

* * *

Chell walked perimeters of the park’s tiny lake, (more of a pond with delusions of grandeur), while she waited. Dusk was steadily falling, but the place was well-lit, and she didn’t feel at all unsafe. The lights reflected on the water’s calm surface, bringing the lake to life. It was peaceful, and it made _her_ feel peaceful.

Oh, the constant nervous anticipation was still there, thrumming beneath her skin, but she felt otherwise calm. Strangely calm, considering. The thought of chickening out and leaving did not even cross her mind. There was reassurance in the knowledge that she had liked and gotten along with Dr. Rattmann before she’d known the truth. It gave her hope for their future interactions.

Resisting the urge to check her phone – for the time rather than any messages – Chell wandered the bank of the lake, pausing on a little bridge that crossed the stream leading to it. She leaned her elbows on the railings, huddling into her coat. Winter was on its way out, but it was still cold, and she hoped her nose hadn’t gone red. 

Her phone buzzed. Heart leaping, she tugged it out of her pocket, feeling guilty at the flare of disappointment.

_Mel 5:41pm_   
_TGIF! How was ur day?_

She put the phone away, opting to reply later. Mel might want to chat and she wasn’t in the mood. Besides, she had plans. Plans that her friend would probably approve of, but ones she didn’t want to share just yet. 

“Chell?”

She glanced up, seeing him standing at the end of the bridge. The now-familiar figure of Dr. Rattmann. Doug. _Her_ Doug. She sent him a warm, slightly nervous smile, and he walked the few feet to meet her. 

“You waited,” he said, the words laced with gladness and a touch of anxiety. “I was half afraid that you’d change your mind.”

Chell shook her head. 

“It’s…” he began, halting to let out a quick laugh. “You’re…”

Her smile widened. He was so articulate in texts, it was endearing to see him struggle now. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to say,” he admitted, laughing again. 

‘It’s okay,’ she signed. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

“Me too. Although I can’t quite believe it. It’s really you. You’re…”

He was still looking at her as if she wasn’t quite real, so she stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug, leaning her head on his shoulder. It hadn’t been her intention to be so…familiar, so bold, so soon, but…it seemed like such a natural move. She felt him relax, his arms coming up to hold her close, and she felt the gentle weight as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. For the first time, she understood the old cliché about a person feeling like home. She could quite happily stay in the circle of his arms forever. 

“You…” he said softly, his breath stirring her hair. “I never imagined… You’re so beautiful, Chell. I don’t deserve you.” 

She frowned at the words, her heart clenching because she knew he believed them. She couldn’t sign without pulling away, however, and she wasn’t willing to do that just yet. Instead, she drew back just far enough to send him an admonishing look. He lifted his head when she moved, but was still sufficiently close that she could have brushed the tip of his nose with hers. 

_That’s not true_ , she urged him silently. _I don’t believe that._

His smile carried a sigh with it. “You don’t believe it,” he stated, sounding resigned to the fact that she wouldn’t let him put himself down, and even gladdened by it. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

Chell stared at him, dumbfounded. The people close to her knew her well enough to read her, even when she didn’t sign, but never had someone translated her intent so accurately, treated her silent communications as if they were perfectly normal. Her heart suddenly felt too full to be contained. She rose on tiptoe and kissed him. 

He melted into her at once, his hand coming up to cup the back of her neck, his thumb ghosting across her jaw. The light caress tingled all the way down her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach. She drew back to catch her breath, sinking back down on her heels. He smiled infectiously, and she beamed back at him. 

“I…wow. I haven’t done that in a while,” Doug admitted, leaning in to touch his forehead to hers. 

Chell nodded slightly in agreement. _Same._

“I don’t want to move too fast, but also…it feels like I’ve known you for ages.”

She nodded again, smiling. 

“And…you truly feel the same way?”

This time she did pull back, signing, ‘What way is that exactly?’ She sent him an impish smirk. 

“I think you know,” he said sincerely. “You must know by now.”

‘Tell me.’

He released a breath, looking briefly down at where his hand still clasped her shoulder. After a moment’s thought, he lifted his head and met her gaze.

“You…you’re everything, Chell. You’ve become so ingrained in my life, it’s hard to remember what it was like without you…what it was like not to think about you constantly and wonder what you’re doing. I think I was half in love with you before I even realised I was falling.”

Chell listened to his speech, swallowing a lump in her throat. His situation truly had mirrored hers exactly. They were on the same page, as they had always been. There was so much she wanted to say. Signing suddenly seemed insufficient. She drew her phone from her pocket, smiling at him in a way that would make him understand that she wasn’t being dismissive. Typing rapidly, she sent him the text. 

_Me 6:04pm_   
_I feel the same. Talking to you is the best part of my day. I feel like I’ve known you forever. And when I realised who you were…I couldn’t be happier knowing that the guy I’ve been steadily falling for and the guy I may have developed a teeny, harmless crush on are actually one and the same_

She watched him read it, his screen illuminating his face. He looked up at her incredulously. “You had a crush on me?”

She held up a hand, finger and thumb an inch or so apart, and mouthed, ‘Little bit.’

He laughed, seeming a touch embarrassed. 

_Me 6:05pm_   
_I would never have acted on it_   
_If you’d been two different people, I mean. You came first, always_   
_It seems silly to admit it now, but Dr. Rattmann reminded me of you_

Doug laughed again. “But how, you never…”

_Me 6:05pm_   
_Mannerisms here and there. And your hands, of course_

“My hands? But you hadn’t…no, wait.” He nodded once in understanding. “When I sent you the book picture.”

She nodded. 

_Me 6:06pm_   
_You have nice hands, I couldn’t help but notice_

He seemed a touch bemused, but intrigued by the idea. He held up his right hand, and she touched her left palm to his. Their fingers entwined, and she smiled at him. 

“Interesting.”

She sent him a quizzical look.

“Just filing the information away for possible future use,” he told her. The smirk he sent her way was brief but borderline wicked, and she felt a jolt of surprise that left her breathless. 

She had something else to say, though. The simplest and most important thing. 

_Me 6:08pm_   
_I love you_

His expression as he read the three little words felt like a physical tug at her heart; all at once disbelieving, grateful, and overwhelmingly happy. He looked up, and she repeated them silently, knowing that he’d be able to lip read it. He deserved to see her say it, even if he’d never hear it. 

“I love you too.” He stepped forward to pull her close again, letting out a little burst of laughter. “God, Chell, you have no idea how much I wanted to tell you. I never imagined I’d ever truly get the chance. I love you.” 

He bent his head to meet her lips once more, and Chell grabbed a fistful of his coat to keep him near. She kept her phone in her other hand. She still had one more question to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: One more chapter to go to wrap things up, then this story is done. Hope you enjoyed the massive amounts of fluff!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Final chapter. Thanks to everyone who commented and favourited. I'm glad you've enjoyed taking this fluff-infested journey with me :)

Chell’s phone vibrated, dancing across her bedside table. She ignored it, inwardly groaning as she clung to her sleep with both hands. Peace reigned again for a while, but was broken once more by another obnoxious buzz.

“Are you going to get that?” Doug asked her, voice croaky from sleep.

Chell lifted her head from his shoulder, freeing her hands to sign, ‘What for? You’re here.’

He chuckled, and she settled back down, silently humming as he traced paths down her back. 

“Pretty sure it’s not me this time,” he said. 

_Then I don’t care._

The third time it happened, she sighed heavily in aggravation, leaning over Doug’s chest to reach for the noisy disruption to her peaceful morning. 

_Mel 8:07am_   
_Come on, why r u ignoring me?_

_Mel 8:11am_   
_I know ur not busy!_

_Mel 8:17am_   
_Ur definitely awake, I know u! WTF are you doing??_

Chell silently groaned. She loved Mel to pieces, but not first thing in the morning, and definitely not when she had the man she loved in her bed. 

A mischievous thought occurred to her, and she tugged the covers aside, aiming her camera at the end of the bed, where their legs made a pleasing contrast of pale and tanned on her terracotta sheets. 

“What on earth are you doing?” Doug’s tone was confused, underlined with mild amusement, but not concerned in any way. She was humbled by the trust he placed in her. 

She clicked a photo from the knee down, then dropped the phone to sign, ‘Making my friend shut up.’

_Me 8:20am_   
_[1 attachment]_   
_I’m a little busy_

Doug huffed a quiet laugh, reaching down to pull the covers back across them both. “There’s an evil streak in you.”

Chell was on the brink of defending herself when Mel’s reply came in. 

_Mel 8:21am_   
_Chell!! WTF!! Who?? :O_   
_OMG is that the artist guy??_   
_Chell???_

Chell snorted at the explosion of shortcuts and exclamation points, flipping the phone to show Doug the message. 

“She…sounds exhausting.” 

‘She is, but she’s great.’ 

_Me 8:22am_   
_Yes, it’s the artist guy, and yes, I’m being careful. Talk later :P_

_Mel 8:22am_   
_Nooo! U can’t leave it there, tell me what happened!!!_

Decisively, Chell switched her phone off and set it back on the bedside table. 

‘Do you want a cup of coffee?’ she signed, since they were both very much awake. 

“I…can’t stay,” Doug said awkwardly. 

Chell fought to conceal her disappointment, mindful that a lot had happened and he probably needed space. She clearly wasn’t as successful as she’d hoped, as he took one look at her face and reached for her hand. 

“I don’t want to go,” he told her earnestly. “But I have to. I’ve taken the meds I had with me. I need to take my morning dose.” 

Clarity hit her like a bucket of cold water, dousing her in embarrassed relief. 

She pulled her hand away to reply, ‘Of course. I’m sorry, I forgot.’

“It’s fine. Do…do you want to come with me?” 

She took in his hopeful expression, a smile spreading its way across her face. 

“I can make you breakfast,” he added, lips quirking upwards when he saw her nod. 

‘And Mel won’t know where to find me,’ Chell signed, making him laugh. 

“A definite bonus. I’m not ready to share you with other people just yet. Or…for you to share me, I suppose. Either one.” 

She nodded in agreement. Since the park, they’d been enclosed in a little bubble of discovery and contentment, where there was only the two of them. Chell didn’t want to have to burst it so soon, and plainly neither did he. 

It was a laughably short drive across town to Doug’s home. Chell estimated that she could walk it in twenty minutes, and she marvelled that he’d been so close the whole time. It had her puzzled over his appearance at the bus stop, however, and that was the first thing she asked when he was free to look over at her. 

“Oh, you remember that?” His face took on a slightly sheepish expression. “I’m sorry for my umbrella dripping on you, by the way. I was in kind of a mess that day.”

She shrugged off his concern. 

“Then when the driver said your name I nearly had a heart attack!”

Chell smiled, imagining his shock, relating it to her own when Henry had bellowed at him in the corridor at Aperture. 

“Uh, to answer your question, that was the closest bus stop to where my car broke down. It had just been towed by the repair guys.” He sought the correct key in the bunch, fitting it in the lock. 

It was a modest house he let her into, tidy but lived-in, and he gestured her through to an open-plan living room and kitchen. There was a paint-splattered easel set up near the largest window, and Chell headed towards it eagerly before halting to sign, ‘May I?’

Doug looked uncertain, but there was an edge of resolve in his nod. “Please.” 

Sending him a reassuring smile, she walked around to peer at his work. The easel was a mass of rough charcoal lines, almost a third covered with paint. The piece was abstract and surreal, and very little of it made sense to her, but it was beautiful. 

“It, uh…” Doug said, walking up behind her. “Sometimes it helps. On bad days… To…to expel some of the…” He gestured to his head, shaking his hand in demonstration. “The noise.” 

Chell nodded her understanding, stepping closer as she spotted something, a figure in one corner. 

‘Is this…?’ she signed, turning. 

“You? Yes. I…heh, I guess you stayed with me. Subject 1498, I mean.” 

She raised an eyebrow, corners of her lips lifting. ‘I didn’t know you admired subject 1498 so much,’ she teased him. 

“She was quite something,” he said softly. “Shrewd, tenacious…and that was before I even got to see you in a test chamber.”

‘You were watching yesterday, right?’

“Yes. I’ve never seen anyone test the way you did. To see you holding a device _I_ built, using it to pull off moves like that…it was incredible.”

‘I still can’t believe _you_ actually made that thing!’ 

He chuckled at her expression. “Why?”

‘It’s…intimidating!’ she replied, shaking her head slightly. ‘You’re so smart.’ 

“There are different types of smart,” he said with a modest shrug. “I just happen to be usefully academic. _You’re_ the smart one.” 

She snorted sceptically. 

“You bypassed a convoluted test solution and found a more efficient way. You essentially hacked that test chamber. It’s never happened before.” 

She shrugged, and Doug’s expression made her think that her achievement was more significant than she probably realised. 

“I don’t think we’re going to agree,” he said at length. “So let’s just say that we’re two intelligent people spending time together.”

Chell grinned, nodding. 

He got to work assembling ingredients while she perched on a barstool and watched, rattling off comments whenever he looked her way. He flatly refused to let her help, smirking at her disgruntled face as he placed a cup of coffee on the countertop in front of her. After swallowing a couple of capsules from the pill bottle by the sink, Doug took a sip of his coffee, hissing a little as he did so. 

‘Hot?’ she signed. 

“Yeah. I never learn.” 

She silently sniggered, sniffing appreciatively at the steam curling off the top of her cup. 

“Chell, can I ask you something?” At her nod, he continued. “This isn’t an accusation, so please don’t take it as one. I’m just curious. Were you going to tell me that you were mute?” 

Brows raised in surprise, she considered. ‘Probably.’ 

“Why didn’t you? I hope it wasn’t that you felt you couldn’t. Especially after…”

He let the sentence hang, but Chell finished it in her head. _Especially after I shared my condition with you._

No doubt the reason he left it unsaid was because it _did_ sound accusatory. 

‘If we ever planned to meet I would have told you,’ she signed. 

Doug kept his eyes on her as he whisked batter in a jug. The only sound was the gentle tapping of his fork against Pyrex while she continued her explanation. 

‘I was just enjoying being able to express myself like everyone else. In a text no one can see that I’m lacking anything. I don’t make people awkward because they can’t understand me.’ 

“But I _can_ understand you,” he stated adamantly.

‘Not everyone can sign.’ 

“I didn’t just mean the signing thing. Sometimes I look at you and I feel like I can hear your voice in my head. And then you sign, and it’s so close to what I thought you were thinking. It’s…kind of unnerving. But in a good way. Does that make sense?” 

Chell held his gaze for a long moment. ‘Not even a little,’ she told him honestly, ‘and yet…somehow, yes.’ 

“And last night,” he added, voice soft, kitchen paraphernalia forgotten in his hands. “Neither one of us spoke then. You can’t convince me that we didn’t know what the other was thinking.” 

She swallowed, skin suddenly feeling too tight. She shook her head just a trace, unwilling to look away. ‘We knew,’ she signed. ‘I knew.’ 

Doug nodded, smile turning a touch embarrassed as he broke eye contact and resumed whisking. Chell bit her lip against a smile of her own. He was so intense, yet still so endearingly diffident. The longer they spent together, the less she saw of the nervous, awkward Doug, and she hoped he’d one day be entirely comfortable around her. 

For the remainder of his cooking time, they went through all their messages, seeking further clarification on points they were curious about. Chell finally had the chance to ask him about the Coleridge cover photo, and determined that not only had he been in her library, she’d missed him by chance because she’d chosen to go through Travel as he’d been departing through Photography the next aisle over. 

“What would you have said to me if you _had_ seen me leaving Poetry?” Doug asked her with amusement, setting a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of her. 

‘I don’t know! That’s not the point!’ 

He laughed, handing her cutlery before taking a seat beside her with his own plate. They ate in relative silence, still scrolling through the message thread on Doug’s phone, reminiscing.

“Oh god, you literally stated that you’re bad at public speaking,” Doug said, reading through their early messages. 

‘I wasn’t lying!’ 

“And that you couldn’t speak on the phone…I assumed it was your cold. So, I guess you _did_ tell me.” 

‘I was vague, don’t feel bad.’ 

Then Chell stopped his scrolling with a hand on his arm, withdrawing it at once to sign, ‘I can’t believe I asked you if you’d ever seen an attractive scientist!’ 

He smiled at her mortified expression. “How could you have known you hit so close? And besides, I haven’t seen any.”

‘Well I have!’ she replied, winking at him. 

“And I can easily imagine someone stunning holding a pile of books.” 

She shook her head, grinning, and he chuckled. They resumed reading, heads close together. 

‘Do you know how cliché it is to woo someone with poetry?’ Chell commented teasingly. 

“I wasn’t aware I was wooing you,” Doug said in mock defence. “I thought we were trading recommendations. I can recite some for you now, though, if you want.” 

She silently laughed, shaking her head. ‘It’s fine.’

“No, no, you started this! Wait…how does it go? _For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams, of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes, of the beautiful Annabel Lee.”_

Chell smiled at him in mild surprise. ‘Very impressive. Not even I know it by heart.’

“I re-read it when you said you liked it,” he explained. 

Such a simple explanation, but one that touched her deeply. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, and he smiled self-consciously.

It was a quiet, peaceful day, giving them a chance to realise how well they already knew each other, and to fill in the blanks on things that were still unclear. It was a day that felt like a middle _and_ a beginning, and, to Chell, it was perfect. 

A small part of her was a little sad at the thought of losing their first connection, of having to get through her day without feeling the magnetic draw to her phone, but halfway through her Monday morning, she received a text message. 

_Doug 10:26am_   
_Henry’s borrowing my stuff again. How unethical would it be to knock him unconscious and stuff him in a closet?_

Chell laughed, feeling ridiculous, and immensely happy. Everything had changed, but enough had stayed the same that she found it difficult to contain her wide smile. She shot back a quick reply. 

_Me 10:27am_   
_If he doesn’t see you, there shouldn’t be a problem :)_

Later, as they relaxed on Doug’s couch, he said musingly, “I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on Henry. After all, if he hadn’t written a six so atrocious that I mistook it for a zero, we would never have met.” 

‘We still would have met,’ Chell said, shuffling back a little to sign. ‘I still would have come in as a test subject and you still would have had to translate for me.’

“True.” He turned a playful smile towards her. “Maybe you would have acted on your little crush.”

‘Maybe,’ she responded with a coy look. ‘Would you have said anything to me? Liked me enough to ask me out?’

“I…I’d like to think I would, but truthfully…no, probably not. I’d have been too intimidated by your beauty and fortitude. It’s a pretty intoxicating combination, you know.” 

She had her legs across his lap, and he rested a warm hand on her thigh, thumb tracing back and forth. 

‘Smooth-talker.’

He gave a cynical laugh, but smiled. “So I guess I should hope that you would have asked _me_ out.”

‘I’m sure I would have said something,’ she replied truthfully. ‘So I guess we’re safe in multiple universes.’ 

“That’s a relief, I was concerned,” Doug said, deadpan. 

Chell sent him an unimpressed look. “I’m happy to just focus on this universe, thank you.’ 

“Me too. This one has everything I could possibly want,” he murmured, raising a hand to cup her cheek. 

She returned the favour, sketching the increasingly-familiar lines of his face with her fingertips, choosing to ignore the corny line because he’d said it with such sincerity. 

_I love you. I’m glad we found each other. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way._

“Likewise,” he breathed, and she kissed him. 

_The end._


End file.
